Old Ones
by Daeviashion
Summary: These are all works that I have started and never completed and I thought I would share. If I ever get around to revamping them, I'll remove the Chapter-Story. All Chapter-Stories are unrelated and cross many different categories and genres.
1. Moogle Roleplay

Claves sat on the roof, ears lax and eyes pointed upwards to the slowly brightening sky. In her left hand she clutched her handmade white gold flute as thoughts of her father raged through her head. Tears welled and dripped down her cheeks matting her white-pinkish fur, and she figured now was a good time as any to start playing, so she put the flute to her mouth and blew a single note, until she moved her fingers, and it turned into many notes of a melancholy tone. After awhile, the tone switched to a neutral and then happy one as her spirits rose, if only for a little while. Some of the smaller birds came over and joined in with her morning song with her Chocobo, Myrn kwehing along as well. The small town of Lysterna woke to the beautiful melody of the Moogle flutist and her avian friends once again.

As the town people came out of their homes and walked past the roof she was on, they waved with a smile on their faces, and she nodded politely back, never stopping her song- it kept her yelling father asleep awhile longer. One hour after dawn had passed a male Burmecian turned the cobble stone corner just as she played the last note. Claves put the flute down and sighed before she grinned and looked at him. The mouse man waved and as he came closer opened his arms wide. The moogle just blinked and flapped her purple wings, floating in mid air for a few minutes until she flew down to his height, past her outstretched arms, stopping her bat like appendages as she landed. Every morning, she sat on the roof, playing her song to wake up the neighbor hood, and at the same time every morning, he'd come around that corner, thinking that she would need his help on getting down, and she'd refuse, flying down herself. "One of these days," he swore years ago, "you are going to plop down into my arms." And years ago, she silently laughed and shook her head no.

Claves glanced up at him, only able to see his long nose, before he glanced down at her. She smiled again, and he picked all 2ft 9in of her up and onto his back, as he crawled into the house before them, the door way only being 5ft high. He set her down and went over to his corner to start working on his gun. The white moogle, in a good mood, skipped over to the kitchen area and began making breakfast. A few minutes later, a rotund moogle with goggles on top of his head waddled (yes waddled) into the room, hand rubbing his forehead to wake himself up further. The hand slid down over his eyes as he asked, "Mascka, are you there?"

The Burmecian replied, "I am. Claves is making breakfast." At the mention of his daughter's name the elder scowled. Mascka looked up from his small seat and said as he noticed the scowl, "You know you shouldn't be too hard on her. She makes decent money, and is doing her best to make you proud."

The scowl deepened into a snarl before his face completely relaxed. "Don't tell me how to mange my own child," he said coldly. The mouse anthro glared, but resumed his gaze to his weapon. The fat moogle sighed deeply. "Why can't she be more like you... interested in weapons..."

"Claves /is/ a girl. I'm not surprised that she isn't into death and destruction and that she has taken an interest in things most girls her age have."

"She's a /moogle/ - an inventor!"

"She did /invent/ the music box," was the calm reply. "Stop trying to make her into someone she isn't, Waxzit, and let her be who she is."

Waxzit ignored him and stomped over to his own work place and began mapping out ideas for his next invention. Claves quietly came from the kitchen and set a plate of roasted kupo nuts by her father's desk, and then placed a bowl of fruit by Mascka (startling her when he flashed her a smile), and went upstairs to slip out of her night gown. She didn't come back down until 3 hours later.

When Claves did sneak down in her silver blue shirt and pants with a black cloak over top, her father was out and Mascka hadn't left his spot. Her bare feet let her collect the bowl and plate she'd left earlier and take them back into the kitchen without making a sound, or so she thought. When she came back to retreat upstairs, Mascka was turned around in his chair facing her. They stared at each other, sea green eyes into wide purple ones, for a while, until he spoke. "He doesn't beat you does he?" Claves shook her head, slowly, wondering what this was all about. The sea green eyed male sighed with relief, before walking up to her. He let his claw like hand rest on her head and rubbed around, touching her long rabbit ears. When he was done, the Moogle glanced up at the black furred mouse in confusion. He just smiled, shook his head, and his dark red hair, and went back to his work. Curious, Claves hovered around, completely overlooking her father when he came home. Waxzit just stared at her apparent interest in guns, and went past the stair well to his room to begin constructing.

When dusk came, the female left her friend's work space and began making a small dinner for the three of them. When it was ready, they sat on the workshop floor in a small circle. After a few minutes of eating, Mascka spoke up. "I'm not sure if you two heard, but Utalri was attacked a few days ago." The two Moogles glanced up from their meal. "And Burmecia not long after."

It was silent for a moment, until Waxzit said, "Are you going back to your home town?" And Claves feared the answer was a yes. She didn't want to be left alone with no friend other than Myrn, and she didn't want her Burmecian friend to die in a possible war.

"No," was Mascka's answer. "Because I've lived here in Dalmasca for so long, I'm not a Burmecian citizen." The two Moogles relaxed slightly.

"Then why bring this up?" Waxzit asked.

"The king has ordered all engineers and Moogles to begin making some weapons. And all warriors to report to him in 4 days." Both his and Waxzit's eyes turned grave while Claves was just wondering what was going on. If they were ordered to make weapons, wouldn't that just mean the king would pay them a good sum for the service?

"There's an extra room upstairs if you'd like to stay here for a while." The anthro mouse smiled grimly in thanks, and the three returned to their lukewarm meal. When it was done, and Claves cleaned up dishes, Waxzit spoke once more. "Claves can show you the room." And then he disappeared into his workroom again.

The female blinked, grabbed her friend's hand, and led up him the stairs to the door on the far right. She opened the door and led him through, careful not to be so eager. The black Burmecian smiled at her obvious haste and nearly beamed at the room. Initially, he thought everything was going to be too small, but it was clear his two friends thought of his height when they planned to have him over at some point. The bed was long enough for him to comfortably lay down in, and the ceiling, was mostly high enough so he didn't have to bend his head except in a couple of places. He knelt down and hugged his mute friend before she left the room, and the trio settled down for the night.

It had been a few days since Mascka came over to stay. Since then, Claves was denied access to the roof to play every morning and instead, she when out to the backyard to talk and sing with Myrn. The shop was open, and Mascka brought all the guns he'd been making to be sent to the military. He and her father were always working on a weapon of some sort, and she wasn't even aloud into the house during the open hours. Mascka wanted to put up an argument, but Waxzit wouldn't hear of it. At night, the few hour she had before bed, were spent packing up things she would need, as per the Burmecian's request. She only packed a few clothes, her favorite music box, and a few flutes.

One day business was slow. So slow in fact, that before midday no one was coming in. Claves was allowed back in, and so she began making a lunch of salad sanwiches. Once everyone had eaten, she began on fixing a broken music box. Out of the corner of his eye, Waxzit saw her, and quietly growled, but continued his work. Mascka glanced over at the fat moogle, and then back to the custom sword he was making. All three looked up when two moogles, one a red mage, flew in.

The taller moogle was dressed in mostly black attire, his pristine white fur standing out greatly. The red pom pom attached to his head went through the black hate he was wearing. His eyes were black as well, and they glistened slightly as he gazed at the female.

The red mage moogle was dressed in red robes and no hat, it was hard to tell whether it was a male or female. Its pom pom was more orangy, and eyes were a bright blue- a start constrast to its yellow-tan fur. It too was looking at Claves, and she didn't like them at all.

With out a word, the female moogle walked out to Myrn telling the chocobo of her plight while her father was left to deal with the new guests, and Mascka listening in.

A bit later, after they left, Mascka came out, to see the young moogle curled up by her chocobo's side. Smiling softly, he gently picked her up and carried her to his bedroom and laid her down on his bed for the night. With a soft sigh, he crept back down stairs and glared at Waxzit's back. "You gave your daughter away to a /mage/?" he demanded.

Waxzit didn't even pause in what he was doing. "It was the best idea at the time."

"At the time? By the eight, she's not even 13 years old! And he's turning 20 in a month!" he yelled harshly, reminding to keep his voice down, if only slightly.

"Her mother would have wanted it," the older moogle said tiredly.

"No, she wouldn't. Her mother would have wanted her to be happy. I can tell you this- she is /not/ happy! Hell, she can't even speak, because /you/ refuse to teach her! What is wrong with you-"

"There is nothing wrong with me!"

"Oh no? Well clearly /something/ must be!" Mascka rubbed his temples. "I understand you're still grieving from Aladi's passing, but that is no excuse for abusing your daughter," he said coldly.

"How dare you say I'm abusing her!"

The mouse gave a pointed look. "She can't speak, she can't read, rarely smiles, and you don't think you're abusing her?! The /neighbors/ are talking! I've been quiet for 5 years- /over/ 5 years- and I think she's suffered enough." The other male remained silent. "Before Dalmasca is attacked, Claves and I are leaving."

Unknowingly, Claves slipped out of the Burmecian's room and was now hiding behind the door listening in on the conversation. She heard her father say, "Take her then. What good is she to me?"

"...What is it about her, that makes you detest her so? She doesn't look anything like her mother, if anything she looks like her grandmother. For her age, she's smart, responsible, and reguardless of what you say, she /is/ a genius. So she doesn't make things you would think are "productive", you should have expected this from a girl-"

"I never wanted a girl!" That outburst stunned both of them. "I've always wanted a boy. Always. Boys are blessings in families. They take on the business, work with their father, things that I dreamed of, gone with Aladi."

"You could have had those things," Mascka said slowly, "if you had worked with your daughter." With that, he left the moogle down stairs to think things over and to check up on Claves. He found her face down in a pillow silently sobbing her heart out. After shutting the door behind him, he padded up to his bed, and rubbed circles around her back to soothe the child. "Ignore him, he doesn't know what he's missing out on. So you aren't a boy, so what? Being male has more responsiblities than you think." At his touch she did calm down, but when she looked up at him, tears were still streaming down her furry cheeks. "You know, I had planned on taking you with me tomorrow," he started wistfully, "to see more chocobos like Myrn, meet some of my friends, and maybe even travel to Burmencia to see my family." Her face brightened. "But... if you're feeling sick, I guess its going to have to wait a couple of days." The moogle shook her head furiously and wiped away at her tears.

"Kupo!" she said softly. "Kupo, kupo!"

He chuckled. "I guess I'm going to have to teach you some word too?"

"Kupo!" He sighed softly, smiles on both their faces, and they hugged eachother. And that's exactly how they fell asleep.

When Mascka woke up that morning, he couldn't help but feel something was wrong. It wasn't that he was late in getting up and it wasn't the fact that the moogle less than half his size was still in his arms (that if something wasn't off, he would be smiling faintly). Myrn's loud wark of alarm, and Waxzit's shout came to his ears first, before something loud deafened him. A bomb? He didn't know and didn't care. Tail twitching every which way, he suddenly rocketed to his feet, waking the moogle in his arms. He set her down by the foot of the bed before going to his back. "Go get your bag, Claves, its time to go." Sleepily she went to her room, rubbing her eyes as she went, completely ignoring the frantic tone in his voice. The Burmecian didn't even change out of the previous day's clothing so anxious was he. With the sack snug on his arm, he ran down the stairs, hitting his head on the doorway. "Waxzit! We need to go, /now/!" The other moogle, lance in hand took down an enemy human, and guarded himself against the second.

"You need to take Claves, and get to Rabanastre. It should be safer there with all the guards."

"You're going to stand here and fight?!"

"This is my home that I'm protecting. I made that promise to the king years ago, even if I stepped down as a Moogle Knight," the fat moogle responded, before shoving the lance into the armored enemy.

Claves, jumped down the stairs two by two, back pack on her back in such a way that she could still fly if she wished. Her purple eyes glanced up to see her father fighting, and it was all it took for her to shatter her happy place. "Kupo!"

Mascka turned and gathered her up into his arms, just in time for the Humes to break down the wall infront of them. All he heard afterwards was a "go!" from Waxzit, and before either blinked they were out the back door and into the yard climbing onto an already saddled Myrn. Once boarded, the mouse cracked the reigns and shouted, "To Rabanastre!" and the white bird jumped over many heads, to their right, and down the street, avoiding many citizens, guards, and weapons as it went.


	2. Nuotare

Kalendas Estate lounged on the stiff, padded bench, black thin tail lazily swaying and curling subconciously. His usually alert, thin, cat like ears were now trying to tune out the busy chatter of the spacious room. He was off to the side with a couple of desks just outside his line of sight, almost against the creamy wall, their dark color greatly contrasting against it and the near white marble floor. There were few other features, such as tall lamps in a corner or two, but that just made plenty of room to the many people that were walking around going this way and that. Many walking to either the clear doors to the left of the miqo'te, outside with the bright, blinding sun, or to the right, through the dark oak (or at least he thought it was oak) door that was a few feet shy from the long balcony above it. Just watching them move made him dizzy. He closed his narrow green eyes. For how long, he couldn't say, but when he opened them back up there was a tall but lithe anthro fox infront of him. His bright red fur made a headache replace his dizziness. Kale closed his eyes again and managed to croak out a "what?".

The red fox paused before asking, "Are you ok Kole?" Ah Kole. His nickname they gave him. He scowled and turned on his back. "I'm only looking out for my younger brother," the other said pointedly.

"'S the nickname," the cat boy slurred. "I'm off duty, call me Kale." He took a deep breath. "And its nothing. Always happens this time of year."

The other paused again. "Aiden has a message for you. I'll tell him you cannot deliver because your not-" He stopped as Kale suddenly sat up and swung his legs over the side to rest his feet on the ground.

"Aiden never asks me to deliver anything. He wants to talk, Vulpo." As his friend was about to reply he added, "This is Nuotare. Just because its the peak of summer doesn't mean I can skirk my duties. Either I die because this thing is impairing me, or Aiden kills me. And to be honest, I prefer the first." Kalendas gracefully got on his feet. Vulpo wasn't happy, he was sure, but frankly he didn't care. If he got a reply, he didn't hear it. He was already in the busy crowd that got him dizzy, heading to the dark oak (or was it maple?) door.

Meeting Aiden, in Kale's mind, was never pleasant. The hyena always put him on edge and never seemed to lose that air of smugness around him, though Kale tried his very hardest to get him to, and because of that, he avoided the mafia boss as much as possible. Being a couriour, that was rather easy, and wasn't suspicious at all (Aiden never used him for letters; said Kole was for "public use").

The miqo'te just shook his head to clear the rest of his mind. He'll need to be about his wits. After a small pause for a deep breath, he contined his walk down the deserted hallway- a hidden passage that he'd found a few months back and never told anyone. Why would he? He didn't need to risk his neck anymore than what it was already, cause he knew a shortcut to the boss. Kale snorted aloud. Just cause he disliked Aiden, doesn't mean he wanted to kill him. He sighed as he trudged through a hidden door, neatly putting it back into place, and turned the corner. Infront of him was a white ash unpainted door which both stuck out horribly with the near gold-colored walls and somewhat complemented the mustard paint. All Kale thought about the color scheme was "why is Aiden obsessed with the color white?"

As he was nearing the door, he heard muffled voices. So the boss called him while he had a meeting? Kale rose an eyebrow. That was new. He shrugged mentally and decided to wait. He leaned slightly on his right leg, putting most of his weight on it, and put his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, sighing softly all the while. At least he got a chance to relax a bit more before he had his nerves frayed. He shook his head and quieted his thoughts once again. And then...

...He noted how very quiet it was. Even straining his thin ears didn't seem to help. Where did the muffled voices go? He was sure the people inside didn't leave as he was standing infront of the only way out and he was not distracted enough for them to sneak by. Was there a raid going on and Aiden was being held captive? (As much as Aiden being in some sort of trouble please Kale, he _still_ had a duty to do!) Did someone poison their drinks? He was nearly going frantic with worry and curiosity.

Just as he was about to move, he heard a calm, smug voice call, "You _may_ come in Kole." Kale's ears twitched at his nickname and his tail was flicking in annoyance. Right as he reached for the knob, the door opened inwardly and a serval, just a head taller than him, stood before him, paw still on the knob. Kalendas paused reconizing the anthro within seconds. He was the only man who had that shade of molten, dark yellow eyes that the miqo'te knew. He had the name on his mouth ready to say, whisper... revere, yet he didn't want to ruin what little time they had together. He wanted to make this feel like hours when it was only seconds going by. He wanted Aiden, his quests, and Nuotare herself to fade away and nothing be left behind other than Kale and the serval in a brown fedora, slacks, and near hunter green vest. "Well come on then! We want ta see the boy, too!" So much for the moment lasting, Kale supposed. The wild cat moved off to the side with out a word to either the half cat for the other three men behind him, but he never took those eyes of Kale, and that made the teen slightly happy.

"Thar's the boy I wanted ta see! How arr ya Kayle? 'N wat's wiff this 'Kole' stuff?" asked a goat all deck out in what looked to be a three pieced suit. His face was adorned with a goatee, and his royal blue eyes was the brightest feature aside from his crooked smile.

Kale shrugged. "It's an unwanted nickname," he replied. Looking over at the goat's companion, a husky in a black tuxedo, he asked, "How have you all been?" Absentmindedly he heard the door close.

"We have been well. Although, I believe Belthanan is ready to retire," came the canine's answer in his low voice.

"Ahloocarduh, how menneh tymes do ah 'ave ta tell ya ta call meh Bill?!" the goat demanded. Alucard just smirked and ignored him. Aiden, Kalendas noted, seemed disgruntled about something. Kale just happy that the smirk was gone for now. "But yehssah," Bill continued. "Ahm reti-eren soon. Ahm too old fore this ol' job."

"How soon?"

"Giv o' tak a few years Ahs 'pose. Ah think fyve's a good numbah," the elder mused. Kale nodded and glanced at the serval out of the corner of his eye.

As he sat down the miqo'te asked, "Did you need me for something Aiden?" He _was_ here for business only. Even with his three friends, Kale did not like being with Aiden. The sooner he got out, the better.

"Phantom and Wrell came here and ended up asking about _you_."

'You make it sound like its a bad thing,' Kale thought, but aloud said, "Then if you don't need me, I'll get out of your way."

"I'll always _need you_, Kalendas." That sentence sent chills down his spine. It didn't help that the pale hyena's mauve eyes, as well as the eyes of the other three males, were staring at him. The cat boy just clenched his hands to keep from scowling. Thankfully Aiden didn't seem to notice or care. "I called you here because Ancora and his group are staying for a while. You are to show him to the empty rooms."

The teen let out a terse "sure". He paused shortly, trying to relax himself, before he spoke again. "If you want, we could go now." Green eyes shifted over to gold ones. The serval nodded, and with a few good byes, they left.

They had been walking silenty side by side for a while, with only the occassional passerby giving a wave and a hello. The younger of the two was nervous, on top of still tense from the hidden meaning Aiden gave him. Even as he pushed that aside, he didn't know what to say, and after that encounter, he wasn't even sure if it was a good time to talk. Still restless, he started, "Ancora-" for that's all the other would let out of his mouth, as he raised a paw to signal him to stop.

"Gen," he corrected.

"I still don't know why you do that," Kale commented. Genere, or Gen for short, was called by any combination of his three names. Sur, middle, or first, it didn't matter. He'd answer to all three. "It confuses me at times, came the admittion.

"You do the same thing, 'Kole'."

The migo'te huffed loudly in annoyance. "Please don't call me that." He turned his pleading green orbs to the serval to show he was serious. "I never asked to be called that anyway."

"I always wondered where it came from," commented a dark skinned Elezen who came from around a corner. "Mind sharing?"

"Personally I believe Nuotare is full of immature sexists," Kale sighed. After all, most male miqo'tes were rare, almost to the point of non-existant, and the females needed to breed to keep the population up so they were usually at home. The elf nodded and the three continued on... until Vulpo met up with them a few minutes later as asked Kale if he was alright. Genere and Auberon, the Elezen turned their heads at Kale, concern on their faces.

"If you were unwell, why didn't you say something?"

"I was slightly dizzy earlier from the summer sun, that's all."

"Kole," Vulpo started, until the half feline hissed at him. "Ok, Kale, what will you do when the summer days get longer?" Kale paused to think and wasn't surprised when he didn't have a solid answer.

"Has this happened before?" Auberon asked.

"Yes. This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last. I'll manage." 'Somehow' was unspoken. "Vulpo do you need me for a letter or anything?"

"Uh, Lupo wants to talk to you later. Said its important." Kale made an uncommited sound, but nodded anyway.

"I need to take care of Ancora first," he said firmly. A quiet "I'm sure you do" came from Aurberon.

"And Claves said to come by her shop, er well Mascka did, but you get my point..." The fox kept mumbling, but Kale heard "daggers" and that was good enough.

"Ok Vulpo I get it. I'll stop by Claves' tomorrow." Caught rambling, the vulpine just put a black paw behind his head to rub his neck in embarrisment. He and Aurbreon then said their goodbyes, going to the left and right respectively, effectively leaving Kale and Gen alone once again. "Shall we?" With a nod, Kale led the way.

The seventeen year old miqo'te slipped down to the basement of the building. The smell of mold assaulted his nose and, for some odd reason, it filled him with a warmness that only the smell of home can bring. It also helped that the recent memories an hour prior began filling his head.

Showing Genere his room had to be one of his fondest memories as the rare look of wonder shone brightly on his face. Kale hadn't been in that for years and, aside from a typewritter and the average bed, dresser, and desk, he couldn't for the life of him remember what the serval's room looked like. That's what said cat's invitation to come over tonight was for... among other things...

Kalendas was more than positive that he was purring now, but he was happy and couldn't bring himself to care. He was sure he had looks as he passed by, green eyes looking for a large wolf-man, and his smile was gone, yet the purring persisted... until a large, clawed, grey hand grasped his left shoulder and made him yowl in surprise. "Such a kitten yew are!" Kale shurgged the large hand off him so he could properly turn and glare at the anthro he was looking for.

"At least I'm not the Big Bad Wolf who preys upon little boys," the smaller huffed half-heartedly. "What do you need me for?"

"A letter of o' course! What else would I call yew foor? Ad-dress is on the envelope as use-u-al." Lupo gave a wide grin as he held out the letter for the young courier. Kale should've took that grin as a warning, but he took the letter and read the envelope over. He scowled when he noticed the address wasn't close by and threw an accusing look at the canine. "Now now, Kale, I _did_ make sure I told Volpune to tell yew to come early."

"Vulpo mentioned nothing about being early," the other muttered. Louder he said, "Expect me back in four days." With a smirk, he turned around and sauntered away.

"Four days?!" exclaimed the taller with such surprise, or anger – Kalendas couldn't tell, that the cat boy _had_ to stop, turn around, and give the older male an even glare.

"Yes four days. Maybe more." As the look changed from startled to outraged, the boy began to explain. "I _do_ have a life outside of Nuotare, Lupo," he growled forcefully. Lupo in turn seemed to be a bit sheepish at the silent accusation and Kale calmed slightly. "I have plans tonight," came the softer tone. I also need to visit Claves' shop to pick up my repaired daggers before I go anywhere and possibly ask Mascka for a gun." The stocky male's jaw dropped. "Yes, I know how to use a firearm. Anyway, Claves closes early during the summer for special requests."

The wolf closed his mouth and tilted his head. He could see that but, "So why can't yew go after your impromtu shopping trip?"

"The sun makes me weaker," he whispered. "And summer solstice makes it even stronger."

"A Keeper of the Moon..." Kale nodded. Worried, Lupo added, "Maybe yew should take Gama with you."

"Gama's busy training new recruits into his unit. I'll be fine so long as I move at night."

"Sure," the elder mocked. "And what'll yew do when the sun's up?"

"I'll sleep on some roofs or something..."

In an exasperated sigh he said, "If yew die, Kale..."

"If I'm still here, I'm not going to die anytime soon." The candid shook his head and sent the teen away.


	3. My Little Pony: Roleplay is Magic

Genre shivered, shaking the slight frost of her coat. It had just started to snow, and the little filly was out, lost in the forest with nowhere to go. Just the thought of home broke her into tears as she remembered how brutally they were murdered. Penmanship, her elder brother was first. He shoved her down into the cellar just as the ponies surrounded their house and stood over the door. He vehemently growled for her to remain silent, the door slammed open, and with in seconds, blood was running down into her cell. She still had patches of her light purple fur dusted with red, not wanting to forget her brother's sacrifice by washing it away. Her mother was next. She yelled and hollered at the soldiers wanting to know why they were killing them off. They had done nothing wrong. One of them, had answered "You are a threat" and killed her without another word. Playwright had said, "Celestia and Luna damn you." Father didn't reprimand her, and she was quickly killed in rage. Genre, unable to take it anymore, shoved the door open, and met the sight of half her family dead. One soldier – the general, turned his gaze towards her. She would never forget his face, his platoon, his bloody weapon. Her father told her to run, angrily, and in a purple flash, just as a sword struck Edgar Allan Pony down, she was gone, brought to a barren forest.

Now she was alone, with nopony and no where to go to. No home, no family, no food, nothing, but the deep hatred that ran to that army. For once Father agreed with Playwright, and Genre did too. With white hair plastered to her face with the snow and rivers of tears running down her cheeks she made a vow, that she would find a way to pay that pegasus back.

Blue eyes opened bleerily, when did she close them, eyeing the roaring flames with dizziness and faint alarm. Slowly, much too slowly for her liking she stood on her cloven hooves, and wading through the snow. She didn't know when the forest caught on fire nor how, and quite frankly she could careless. She could careless about a lot of things, her survival including. Oh, how she wished the flames swarmed faster, gobbling her up in its heat, just so she could see her mother's smile, her father's stern face, her sister's haughting laughter, her brother's warm, encouraging eyes, to see the look on Luna's and Celestia's faces when she told them of the genocide of the unicorns, if her parents haven't already, and to finally meet the mane 6, the first of many to die. Idly, as she trudged onwards going anywhere and no where, she wondered if her stuffed Origami crane, Yuuki, from her friend in Horseshima, would be there. She smiled as a fever set in, oh that would be wonderful.

The blew harshly and she fell face forward in the snow. She lifted her tear stained face in an atempt to get up, but she was too cold, and the snow was so soft and warm and inviting. She was ready to go.

The first thing she noticed, when she came to, where the colors black and green, interwoven and distorted. Raising her head she shut her eyes only to reopen them blindly and she felt no cold. Wasn't she out in the snow before? Or was all of the past day just a horrible nightmare? Genre rose her blue eyes skyward to be met with... rock lined with beautiful orange crystals on the ceiling. Studying them intensely she could see it was molten lava melded into crystal... by magic. Were there other unicorns here? Twisting and turning every which way the young filly took in every minute detail. There were many ledges above her, most inhabited. The ones closer to the crystals were so far away she couldn't see what they were other than blurry blobs. The walls around her were encrusted with many circular lines and holes. Were they writings? Oh, she loved to read! Maybe they told an old story like her grandma used to!

Just as suddenly as her mood rose, it dampened. Her grandma was gone, her grandpa was gone, her mother, father, sister, brother. All gone. Never to be seen again. "That's what dead means," her father said coldly at a funeral she distantly remembered. Large swollen tears ran down her cheeks. Her chest, no her heart, was filled with such pain it almost caused her to blank out. She felt very sick, and began to dry heave a little. She curled her lion tail around her a bit more and rested her head. Within moments she was in a troubled sleep.

When she awoke again it was from a dream turned nightmare that startled her awake. Idly she noticed that the setting was the same for the most part. It didn't seem like much time had passed. The black and green swirls were gone, but in place of it was a mare who had a black coat and a green mane. Genre almost wanted to call the color turquoise, but it wasn't that blue. She had a horn, like the young unicorn herself, but also wings! She could fly! And the wings were so pretty~. They looked feathery, yet butterfly-ish. How odd. Her horn was crooked too. Did she have an accident? Oh, Genre wished she could help the other if she was hurt!

Around her whispers formed. She couldn't hear what they were saying, just that they were like soft breezes in the air. It was... nice, soothing, almost like a wispy purr. If this was to be her new home... she entertained the idea. It wouldn't be so bad, or at least she hoped.

The filly stared at the mare- queen blinking her owlish eyes. "I am called Genre, ma'am," she answered. What does one call a queen? Her highness? Ma'am? Queen? Sire? Holy One? Her mom never did say as she never had to meet the royal family. She shook her head to keep from inviting the bad thoughts in. In bad times, her brother once said, one must think of good things. So, deciding not to dwell on her brother and mother, she decided to pose a question. A rather innocent one. "Are you a unicorn? See," she began to explain, "the crystals up there are formed by magic, and unicorns are the only ones able to use magic, but, you have wings too." And that confused her. Why would a unicorn need wings?

"No, our queen is not a unicorn. She, and we are changelings little one," came a voice. Genre turned to the source and found another black pony, a stallion if the pitch was anything to go by, but unlike the queen, his hair was... turquoise?

"But... what is a changeling? Is it like a unicorn?"

This filly, Ecdysozoa thought, was amusing. He and the rest of his hive, and possibly changelings in general, adored fillies and colts. They gave unconditional love usually, and kept them fed quite a bit. "A changeling is a changeling." How does one go about explaining things to a child? "We have horns like unicorns, but also wings like pegasi. We are called changelings because we can change our shape."

"Oh..." The filly was tempted to say 'I see', and almost did, but... she didn't see. Then a picture of the princesses came to mind. "Are you like Princess Celestia and Princess Luna?"

Ecdy rose a brow. "Alicorns? We look similar, yet we do not have the same duties as they do." That was as best as he could explain. A command was issued to him, to help with the filly, and he and all that were assigned believe they'd rather like the job, as big of a hassle it would be. "Our queen, myself, and all the others wish you welcome Genre. If you'll follow me I will show you around." With a bow to his queen, and an eager filly at his hooves, they were gone.

Showing Genre around the hive was a haggling experience. She was very inquisitive as most young ponies seem to be, and she did ask a lot of questions. Hopefully, she would grow out of this because she'd vex him to no end. Ah, yes, Queen Exuvia issued that she would be staying with them. None argued against the idea, how could they? Whatever the queen decides, goes. One cannot defy a direct or even indirect order, and they were happy to do so. But, they weren't as enthusiastic as he and a few others would've liked. Genre was a great source of food. While she grows they and the queen will provide and love and teach her and she would love them in return. She was also good for learning more about pony customs for the more inexperianced workers of the hive. Individually, Sozoa could see her as a lovely younger sister, an adopted daughter to the queen, and possibly a queen of a hive herself with loads of teaching and hard work on her part should she ever want to. The male changling doubted that she would even become a queen of a hive, she was far too interested into books, but the potential was there, so they would all have to wait and see. He gazed lovingly as she slept by his chitin covered hide. A little sister indeed.

Genre, now a mare stood at the river side to her home for the last 15 years. She never thought she'd be this tall, almost rivaling her late father, and just about on par with her brother and mother. A smile wove onto her muzzle as she thought about them. While neither were like her original family, Exuvia and Ecdysozoa were just about as close as she was going to get, and she accepted that with no qualms. She prayed that her first mother and brother both approved of what they were and were ok with her moving on, but that was it. After all, being raised by changelings wasn't the best for a child.

She did learn things, such as more about who Celestia and Luna once were, the mane 6, Discord the tyrant who was ruling now, how she was the last unicorn and that she had to be kept hidden, but her favorite subject was magic. She had to learn after all. She was going out into the world like her brother. (and nothing short of her mother was going to stop her) Speaking of which, she looked down in the river to see her reflection.

Burgundy hair shone back at her and framed her cream coat nicely. Lilac eyes blinked back at her. Her tail unfortunately wasn't changeable. It could be that she couldn't visulize a normal tail, but her mother, the strongest weilder of magic in the hive was unable to either. Genre supposed that her magic and her mother's conflicted or that she made herself as immune to it as possible. No one had answer, but they did have an idea on how to make her blend it. The former black mare didn't stress on it too much. She could always say that one of her parents was a mule or whatever. She just had to make it realistic and consistent. Her horn was gone, and her magic restricted, but she didn't mind. As long as she could change back and train more later, she'd be ok. "You ready to go?" a male asked. She turned away from the water and peeked at Ecdysozoa. He was turquoise like his mane once was and his mane was now a ghostly white, but it was him, wingless and hornless.

"Yes," she answered. "I still don't think I'm going to blend in well."

"You'll do fine." He ran off in a direction, and she followed. "We'll go to Ponyville, its usually open to newcomers."

"Even after Discord took over?"

"Discord didn't do much," Ecdy replied as they past the forest. "He's just in charge of the army, king of the land, and does whatever he desires. The ponies under him live pretty much the same, they just kill unicorns and anything else Discord wants and as long as they do so, they get to live freely."

"What Ecdy means to say Genre, is that you're so beautiful, most stallions aren't going to care about you being new."

Genre blinked at the newcomer to the journey. "And you are...?"

"Oh that's right, we never met. I am Teskanny," he replied. "But all my friends call me Super Scoop."

Genre eyed the magnifying glass as his cutie mark. "I see."

"Which reminds me, did you come up with another name?"

"I'll call myself..." Genre began to think. It be best if she tried something similar to her own so she could remember it, and also because such a thing would be easily overlooked. "Fantasia."

"Nice name, doll. And what have you cooked up Zoey?"

The other changeling ignored the jibe. "Glass Frost." Once both said their names, their cutie marks began to appear. Glass' was that of a clear fountain and Fantasia's was a scroll with a quill and the letter 'F' eteched onto it. No sooner had they appeared did the forest they were in faded away to reveal a quaint little town. "Fantasia, welcome to Ponyville."

Genre stopped and gazed at the dim colored buildings. "Its... not as bright as my mom told me." The pegasi had cleared the clouds well. It was a nice sunny day... well, if the sun wasn't a banana.

"Things changed."

"Yeah, doll. Anyway, lemme show you to your new house." Scoop whizzed past them and to a blue and purple studio like house. The cream mare and her brother followed at a more leisurely pace.

"Hello nice to meet you," said a stallion. He seemed to want to go up and say hi, but the stern brown eyes of the pony next to her kept him at bay. Both returned the greeting, and the many others they received in kind. Genre, now Fantasia deemed that today was going to be a good day.


End file.
